Lost Along the Way (11 page)

A year ago she'd sat at the kitchen table and looked around her cozy Long Island home—specifically at the walls, which would never be decorated with family portraits or covered with scribbles drawn in crayon. She'd waited for Steve to get home from work. Whether or not he sensed it was coming, she'd never know.

“I think it's time for us to admit this isn't working,” Meg said. She refused to look at him, choosing instead to focus on a tree branch in the backyard that rocked in the wind. “You've done the best you could, and so have I, but we don't work. Not like this.”

He dropped his briefcase on the floor at the back door and hung his car keys on the small hook on the wall. He opened the fridge and removed a can of beer, then decided against it and returned it to the shelf. He sat next to her and took her hand.

“We can try adoption again. The last one just wasn't meant to be, but there are plenty of kids who need good parents. Don't
give up because you're frustrated. I'm frustrated too, but we need to keep trying,” Steve pleaded.

“I wish I was strong enough to go through it again, but I'm not. I've accepted that this is my life, and that for whatever reason, it's what God wants for me. I can't take any more disappointments. It will break me. I need to start looking forward. You should, too.”

“I'm not giving up on us. I want to make us work. I don't know why we can't move on from this,” he said, looking so very tired.

“I can move on from this, but I won't take you with me. You can have a different life. You can have a different future. The only thing holding you back is me, and I haven't been a wife to you in a very long time.”

“That's not true,” he whispered.

“Do you remember that night not long after we were married, when I got all dressed up and wore that beautiful necklace you bought me for my birthday? We went to dinner and then walked around talking about all of the things we were going to do and all of the things we wanted for our life together?”

“How could I forget it? Your heel got stuck in a subway grate and broke in half. You had to hobble the last five blocks home,” he said, rubbing his thumb across the veins in the back of her hand.

“That was right before I found out I was pregnant for the first time. And after that everything just went off in a different direction. We never did any of the things we said we were going to do. I never got to be the wife I wanted to be. I never took care of you the way you deserved. It's like this little hole started to grow inside me, and over the years I've just crawled further and further inside it. The only thing I can do now is let you go.”

“I don't want a divorce,” he said, sighing deeply and fighting
to hold back a lone tear that was brimming in his left eye. She reached up and brushed it away with her thumb, tracing his jaw with her finger before returning her hand to her lap. “If you want to separate while we figure out how to go forward, just the two of us, how to make just the two of us enough, we can do that, but I won't divorce you. I'm not giving up on us.”

“That defeats the purpose,” Meg said, having a hard time believing this conversation was happening. She looked over at the framed picture taken at Jane's twenty-fourth birthday party, right after she and Steve had returned home from their honeymoon in Mexico. They were two people so very much in love. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. “I want you to give up. I need you to give up, for me. I'll go to a hotel until I figure out what I'm going to do.”

“No. I won't let you move to a hotel. I want you to stay here. Let me at least do that for you.”

Once Steve had packed a bag and left for a friend's house, Meg sat alone with a glass of wine on the leather couch in his office that he'd kept from his bachelor days. She didn't want to call her parents or her sisters or anyone else, because no one would understand what she was going through. She wasn't as bothered by her isolation as she'd thought she'd be.

The way she saw it, she was going to have to get used to being alone.

I
really don't think that this is a good idea,” Cara said to Jane as they made their way through the halls of North Shore High School, looking for the classroom where they'd been told Steve taught his last-period English class.

“I can't think of a better way to find her, can you? Besides, I always liked Steve and he always liked us. Why would he mind a little surprise visit?”

“No. I certainly don't have a better idea, but that doesn't mean I have to like this one.”

The women climbed the four flights of stairs to his classroom, which overlooked the athletic fields out front. Jane stopped for a minute and gazed out a window, vividly remembering her own days in high school and how eager she'd been to get out of there. It'd been twenty years since their graduation, but the after-school scene still looked exactly the same. She watched the jocks in their football pads trying to impress the popular girls as they made their way to their practice field, and caught sight of a group of outsiders who would no doubt spend the afternoon sitting in parked cars somewhere smoking cigarettes and joints, discussing their latest tattoos or piercings or whatever new and inventive way they'd come up with to piss off their parents. God she missed school.

They paused when they got to Steve's classroom and nodded silently at each other before Jane knocked softly on the open door.

“Hi, Dr. Steve,” Jane said. She was trying to keep it casual,
to act like it was a completely normal thing for Meg's estranged friends to show up at his school. Cara stood next to her and seemed to be even more uncomfortable than she was, which didn't really make any sense. Jane knew that Meg was mad at her for disappearing from her life, but she still had no idea why she had a problem with Cara. At some point, someone was going to tell her what happened between them, even if she had to beat it out of her.

Steve was sitting behind his desk, reading and mindlessly twirling a red pen when Jane knocked. When he looked up, he dropped the pen on the floor and stared at them like they'd risen from the dead. Jane would have understood his being surprised, but the emotion he was registering wasn't surprise; it was something much closer to horror. Slowly he stood, knocking a copy of
Jane Eyre
off his desk in the process. He ran his hands over his corduroy pants as he desperately blinked back tears. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple almost getting stuck in his throat as his breathing became more labored. “She's dead,” he said, choking out the words.

“Meg's dead?” Jane screamed. The inside of her throat began to burn, and she could actually feel her brain stuttering in her skull, every thought she had bouncing off the others, causing one loud, buzzing, crash.

“What?” Cara asked. She dropped her purse, causing her wallet, car keys, and a lipstick to scatter all over the floor.

“Why didn't you tell us?” Jane wailed.

How could this have happened?
she thought.
How could we not have known?

“Wait. That's not why you're here?” Steve asked. “I thought you were here to tell me that!”

“Why would you think that?” Jane asked.

“Then why are you here?” Steve answered.

“Not to tell you anyone's dead, for Christ's sake!” Cara said.

“Meg isn't dead?” he asked, noticeably calmer.

“Not that I know of, but I haven't seen her in years. You're her husband; wouldn't you know if she were dead? Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on?” Jane asked. She was beginning to realize that the perfect lives she'd imagined for her friends were, in fact, imaginary.

“Oh, thank God,” Steve said.

Jane felt herself relax, just a little. “Okay. Let's try this again. We came here to tell you that we wanted to talk to Meg. We had no idea where you live anymore, but we found out you were still teaching here, and this seemed like the best way to find you and thereby her.”

“We separated,” he said. “I haven't talked to her in a while.”

“When?” Jane asked in utter disbelief. If Meg and Steve couldn't make it work, then there was no hope for anyone.

“About a year ago.”

“
Why
? You guys were perfect. Why would you split up?” Jane asked.

“I'd rather not get into it,” Steve said.

Cara picked her things up off the floor and shoved them back into her purse, as if she didn't want to be a part of this conversation anymore. It struck Jane as odd that Cara didn't think the lipstick that had rolled under the radiator could wait.

“Cara, did you hear that? Would you get up off the floor and listen to Steve?” Jane asked.

“I'm sorry,” she replied, standing up and tossing the lipstick back in her purse. “What happened?” Jane noticed that Cara
stared at the floor when she asked the question, as if she already knew the answer.

“It's personal,” he said quietly. “I'd rather not get into it.”

“Oh, Steve, I'm so sorry,” Jane said. “I don't know what to say.”

“I'm sorry, too,” Cara added.

“Anyway, she's been withdrawn and depressed for much longer than we've been separated. She won't let me help her. I've tried to help her. I want to, but she pushes me away.”

“I know the feeling,” Cara said, finally looking up to meet Steve's eyes.

“Okay. I wasn't expecting this at all. I'm sorry we barged in on you here,” Jane said, the realization that Meg's marriage was also a mess somehow making her feel better about her own—which totally disgusted her. What kind of woman used a friend's disaster as a reason to feel good about her own shortcomings? She really needed a shrink.

“Why are you two looking for her?” Steve rightfully asked. “What are you two even doing together?”

“Looking for someplace to hide,” Jane answered.

Steve smiled. “Jane, you were always one of those people who never had a problem telling it like it is. I like that about you. It's nice to see that you haven't changed that much over the years.”

“Except for the fact that I'm now tabloid fodder on the run on Long Island because I couldn't find a place to hide in a city of ten million people. Other than that, yeah. I'm exactly the same.”

“I've seen the news. I'm sorry you've had to deal with this nightmare. Did you really not know? I mean, is that really true?” Steve asked. “I don't mean to sound like a jerk and I don't mean to pry, but you did just track me down in my classroom and scare the life out of me. So I'm hoping it's okay to ask.”

“No. Believe it or not, I really did not know,” Jane said. “Yes, I actually am that stupid.”

“I'm sorry, Jane. I really am. I guess you can't win at this point, right? You're either an idiot for not knowing or a thief for being part of it. Having those as your only two options must suck big time.”

“Yes, it does. So that's my story. Cara over here, she's—” Jane started, but Cara cut her off.

“Just along for the ride. I thought maybe Jane should have some company and we were thinking maybe it's time the three of us should get together and talk.”

Jane wasn't sure what to think of the bizarre interaction between Cara and Steve. Cara prided herself on being strong. She always kept part of herself hidden, afraid that if she showed some vulnerability it would somehow be used against her. That was just her personality. She was the polar opposite of Meg, who trusted everyone and wore her heart on her sleeve. Back in the day Cara had served as Meg's de facto bodyguard, making sure that no one hurt her. No wonder Steve was so worried about her—without either of them, Meg didn't have anyone watching over her.

“Right,” Jane said. “Along for the ride. Listen, Steve, I'm sure that Meg is in need of some friends and maybe we are the worst people in the world to show up and try to help her, but maybe it makes perfect sense. Maybe we can help. Do you know where we can find her? Cara said she changed her phone number.”

“Yeah, she did. We also sold the house. I live in an apartment over by the train station now, and Meg has been spending most of her time out at the place by the beach. She likes it. You know how she always loved those farm stands.”

“She's in Montauk?” Jane asked, surprised. “That's amazing!
This is fate. We were going to ask her if we could hide out there for a few days while I figure out what I'm going to do with my life. I was planning on calling her and asking her to join us. It never occurred to me she'd be living out there.”

“It never occurred to me, either,” Steve said, obviously heartbroken that the love of his life had found a place that made her happy but didn't include him.

“In the summer I get it, but she likes it out there now all by herself? It's October! It's desolate out there in the off-season, which is exactly why I thought it would be the perfect place to hide. What does she do out there all winter by herself?” Jane asked. As soon as she heard the words she knew that Steve was probably wondering the same thing, and worrying that maybe she wasn't by herself at all. Maybe she'd found someone else.

“Spending a long, cold winter alone in a deserted town doesn't sound like a way to improve her mood,” Cara said. “She must be lonely.”

“She's still working. She's writing a blog for a gourmet magazine. She comes up with new recipes and posts them online, and I think there's some question-and-answer thing she's involved in. A lot of cooking and blogging and yeah, a lot of time alone in her head. Unless she's started dating someone else. Maybe I'm sitting over here alone and worried about her and she's actually shacked up with a fisherman. I don't know anymore. She's made it pretty clear that she wants to be alone, so I've been trying to respect her wishes,” Steve said, vocalizing what Jane had already been thinking.

“Do you think she'll freak out if we show up?” Jane asked. “Cara, I assume you know where it is, right?”

“Yeah. Meg showed it to me not long after you guys bought it three years ago.”

“She hasn't seen either of you in a long time and you're going to just show up unannounced? Yeah, I think she'll freak out.” He tapped his pen on his desk. “You know what? I don't know if this will make things better or worse, but I have to try something. How much worse could things possibly get at this point?”

“Does that mean you'll help us?” Jane asked.

“Yeah. Here,” he said. He ripped a piece of paper off his pad and wrote down the address and phone number of the cottage. “This is the landline. I don't know if she'll answer if you call, and I don't know if she'll be there when you get there, and I don't know if she'll want to see you. Hell, I don't know if she'll let you in the front door. But if I give you this, do you promise that you'll do one thing for me?”

“Anything,” Jane said.

“We'll try,” Cara hedged.

“Tell her I love her. Tell her I miss her. Tell her . . .” He stopped. “There's way too much I want to tell her to even try to encapsulate it in a single sentiment to send along with the two of you.”

“Take your time,” Cara said.

“Just tell her that I'm waiting for her. I want her to know that.”

“You're a good man, Steve,” Jane said. She walked slowly toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn't realize it would hurt this much to see Meg's husband. She missed her friend more than she'd ever realized.

“We'll tell her that, too,” Cara said from where she stood in the doorway.

“Then go,” he said as he pulled from Jane's grasp and pressed
the paper with the address into her hand. “At least you won't have to worry about the paparazzi finding you out there. There's not much action in Montauk this time of year.”

“No, there's not,” Jane said, a familiar glint returning to her eye. “But I have a feeling there's about to be.”

Jane and Cara
headed east on the Long Island Expressway for the two-hour drive to the tip of Long Island. It took three hours to drive from Manhattan to Montauk if there was no traffic, and while it wasn't quite as far as Jane would have liked to get from the city, it was a pretty good start. She lowered the window and let the cool air hit her face before she started fiddling with the radio, just like she used to when she rode shotgun in Cara's car. The only difference was that now she struggled to find things to talk about. It seemed as good a time as any to try to get some answers.

“I know that I disappeared on you guys and everything, but now that I'm here, can you please tell me what the hell is going on?” Jane asked.

“What do you mean?” Cara replied.

“I know you know what happened between them. You have no poker face whatsoever. I can't think of any reason on earth why the two of them would separate. None. She loved him more than anything in the world. Tell me what happened.”

“I don't want to get into it.”

“Okay,” Jane said, tired of playing the will-you-or-won't-you-tell-me game when they both knew Jane would make her crack. “This is stupid. I know you, and I know that part of you probably feels like you're betraying Meg's confidence by discussing it with
me, but we're on our way to her house and keeping secrets isn't going to help anyone. Haven't you learned that by now?”

“Fine,” Cara said. She paused briefly and then said quietly, “Meg can't have children.” Jane was struck by her blunt delivery, but then figured that some things are impossible to sugarcoat.

“What do you mean? I remember she had two miscarriages, which is awful, but lots of women have a couple of them. Are you saying there're more than the two I know about?”

“Yes. As far as I know, there's nothing they can do to help her. Maybe things have changed . . . I don't know . . . but I doubt it, if she left Steve. She tried everything, but nothing worked. My best guess is that the stress of it all became too much for her. It's been chipping away at her for years. She wasn't the same anymore. It broke my heart, to be honest.”